


There is no one higher

by ConvenientAlias



Category: Harlots (TV)
Genre: F/F, Power Dynamics, Seduction, Smut, but which way do they run?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 22:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14459214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: "You think I may not be worth my keep, Lady Caroline?"or, the one where Lady Caroline just wants to see what her husband's been spending all his money on.





	There is no one higher

Charlotte wouldn’t have made her hair nice for the arrival of Lady Caroline, nor would she have put on one of her best dresses. She wouldn’t have put on her brightest lipstick, or any lipstick at all, and she certainly wouldn’t have bothered with the string of pearls around her neck. But Haxby, the lying cur, told her that after his four days away, Sir George was finally returning. And after four days away, he was bound to have an appetite.

But when the door to her bedroom finally clicked open, Haxby ushered in Caroline, not George. And Charlotte, who was perched on a chair with her legs crossed so that her ankles just barely showed, was left wrong-footed.

Caroline looked her over, gaze trailing from head to toe. “Hello, Charlotte Wells.”

Charlotte smiled. She was good at smiling at people, and she’d already had a smile summoned for George, who she’d expected to be the one at the door. She was not sure a smile like this one was properly grave (did Caroline expect her to act chastened?) but it was the best she had.

“Lady Caroline. Your visit is a surprise.”

Caroline nodded. She smiled herself. “I hope I do not bother you at home.”

There was something cutting even at such a simple statement. They both knew that while Charlotte lived here, the estate properly belonged to Caroline. She could not possibly be intruding on Charlotte’s life more than Charlotte intruded on hers.

Charlotte shook her head. “It’s quite all right.”

They’d only met once before, when George had foolishly brought her to the house where he supposedly lived with Caroline, and back then Charlotte supposed she had looked different. She had still been beautiful, and still polished, but a little thinner and less lavish than she was now. She’d been wearing one of her dresses from her time at Ma’s house, not one George bought her. Then, Caroline’s gaze had burned her. Now, it still made her feel oddly bare. She felt more bare knowing Caroline had seen her then (and been hurt by her) than by knowing she was facing her master’s wife. Caroline didn’t feel like a betrayed wife—she didn’t have the properly righteous air about her, despite her primness. She felt more like an old, awkward acquaintance.

“Lord George is not in, I’m afraid,” Charlotte said quietly.

“I have no desire to see my husband. He’s had little enough desire to see me,” Caroline said. “I came to see his business.” She sat down on a chair across from Charlotte, hands folded primly in her lap. “You see, George has started spending more money lately. He was always a poor spender but he’s been getting worse.” A thin smile. “I thought I’d see what he was spending it on, at least.”

The money, Charlotte knew, was also Caroline’s. She’d inherited it, and George had married into it, and Charlotte had whored her way into it, and so here they were. Still, Charlotte thought, of the three of them she was probably doing the most to earn it. She smiled back sardonically. “And what do you think of your husband’s investments?” A rhetorical question. A wife could never approve of her husband purchasing for himself a mistress.

But Caroline did not say anything scathing, as Charlotte expected, as she braced herself for. Instead she gave a slight shrug. “It seems to me he could be spending his money in worse ways.”

Charlotte swallowed. She was not sure how to take the compliment. “I represent him well in public,” she said, now feeling that she ought to justify herself. “Men are fond of me. I have won him influence. Influence for your house.”

“You win better in your dealings with men than with cards then.”

Charlotte’s training stopped her from gaping. But she raised her eyebrows and struggled to keep her expression calm.

“I must ask you to desist in that habit,” Caroline said sweetly. “The clothes, the finery, are reasonable for a woman of your…position. But if you are well kept I cannot allow you to lose more of my money. I’m sure you understand.”

To think they’d almost been getting along.

“I am afraid you are not my employer,” Charlotte said. “Lord George is. I will consider your request…” she tilted her head. “…and weigh it against my own pleasure. But rest assured I will consider most carefully.”

Caroline’s lips thinned. “I certainly would, if I were you.”

“Oh?” Entertaining that this sheltered woman could imagine herself ever being in Charlotte’s shoes.

“My husband may be an idiot, but even he is not imbecile enough to stand for your expenses forever. If you cost him more than you’re worth to him, he may well change his mind. I say this in your own interest.”

Charlotte stood.

She crossed the room to Caroline’s chair and walked around the back. She placed her hands on Caroline’s shoulders, letting her palms sit on the border between skin and collar. “You think I may not be worth my keep, Lady Caroline?”

Caroline looked up, as Charlotte had thought she might. “I’m merely trying to advise you as to your good.”

“I am worth quite a bit to Lord George, you know.” Charlotte squeezed Caroline’s shoulders, then gently eased her hands up Caroline’s neck until they cupped her chin and cheeks. “I have given him reason to be quite fond of me.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Caroline said softly. She barely opened her mouth—Charlotte’s fingers moved with her jaw. And as she finished speaking, Charlotte leaned down and caught her mouth with a kiss while it was still half open. Upside down, she pulled Caroline’s head back, back, back and sucked on her lips, only licking just a little bit at her teeth. When she pulled away she walked around to Caroline’s front and sat down easily on her lap.

She smiled brightly, face only a couple inches from Caroline’s. “You doubt my worth, Lady Caroline.”

Caroline’s hand was halfway to her lips, but stunned, she reached to slowly, and Charlotte kissed her again before it could get there. She put a little more effort in this time, and as she thrust her tongue a little deeper, playing with Caroline’s tongue and the roof of her mouth, she pulled Caroline’s dress down with both hands. She had a higher neckline than Charlotte had worn in years, but it was still low enough that with a little yanking (and maybe a little ripping, oops!) Charlotte could slot her hands in and feel her breasts. She caressed them as she moved her mouth down to Caroline’s jaw.

Caroline made a noise. But it was not a request for her to stop. It was barely even a word.

Her breasts were smooth, and the nipples hardened quickly under Charlotte’s fingers. It had been ages since Charlotte had played with a woman but in some ways they were no different than men. Catch them in the right mood, and they could still be easy—they were less easily swayed in the long run, and not generally as thirsty, but Charlotte knew how to manage them. And, she decided, she would manage Lady Caroline. Manage her so well she would no longer resent her husband for the expense, but only for the luxury of keeping, owning, Charlotte. She would not doubt Charlotte was worth the money George spent. She would not doubt Charlotte was worth a fortune. By the time Charlotte was done, Caroline would give her life for another go.

She would give it her best.

“Do you want me to touch you?” she asked, putting a hand where skirts still covered Caroline’s groin. Not as easy to tell when a woman was aroused—no bump—but Caroline was breathing hard, and her pretty white face had gone red. And not just where lipstick had smeared off on her lips and jaw.

Caroline put her hands on Charlotte’s shoulders, bracing herself. She stared at Charlotte wonderingly, apparently unable to decide whether to push her awayor not.

Charlotte laughed lightly. “It’s an easy decision. I can touch you or not. Either way, your husband’s still paying me. You might as well enjoy the fruits.”

“Why…” Caroline swallowed.

“Are you going to say you don’t like it?” Charlotte raised her eyebrows.

Caroline shook her head. Which could mean anything, really.

Charlotte knelt and began to lift her skirt. “Well, I’m going to begin. Let me know if you want me to stop.”

“Wait.”

Despite herself, Charlotte hadn’t actually been expecting Caroline to stop her. She paused.

Caroline was still breathing hard. She said, “You don’t have to.”

Charlotte cocked her head.

“You don’t have to prove yourself to me. It’s…I wasn’t going to force George to get rid of you. He’d spend the money on something else, anyhow.” Caroline swallowed. She half stood, then sat back down—Charlotte was kneeling directly in the way. “I’m sure you’re worth the money. And I never questioned you have the right to…well.” She shrugged. “You don’t need to lower yourself to me.”

Charlotte had felt angry earlier. She had felt a little excited to touch Caroline, who was more inexperienced and more fun than George. She had felt challenged, a little amused. But now, for the first time today, she felt humiliated. “I’m afraid I’m already too low, Lady Caroline,” she said. She squeezed Caroline’s ankles. “This will hardly put me lower. After all, you’re a lady. And I’m just a harlot.”

She let her hands trail up Caroline’s calves, lifting the skirt as they went. She paused at the knee.

Caroline wet her lips. “I don’t need this.”

“Yes, you do,” Charlotte said. Her voice was a whisper. “Everyone does. Shall I tell you a secret?”

“W-What?”

“I’ll tell you if you let me touch you.” Her hands circled Caroline’s knees. She could feel Caroline quiver.

“All…all right.”

And that was that.

She yanked Caroline’s skirts up and pulled down her underwear. Underneath Caroline was wet, but that was hardly a surprise. Charlotte hadn’t fucked a woman in ages, but it wasn’t exactly something you lost the knack of. And she’d always been rather good at it.

She drew gasp after gasp from Caroline’s lips. As she fucked with her fingers, she sucked marks onto Caroline’s thighs—they were the closest part of her in reach. Underneath all these skirts, Caroline would be marked for days. No one would see it. Caroline’s husband, after all, would be otherwise occupied, and the way Caroline was reacting to Charlotte there was no way she had a proper lover. But the marks would be there, and Caroline would know, and Charlotte would know she knew. Even far away, they would both know how Charlotte had marked her, claimed her in ways even George could not. He had not the skill. The heart. The brains.

When Caroline came, Charlotte slowly withdrew. “Would you have me service you further, lady?”

Caroline did not answer. But with trembling hands she pulled her underwear up and her skirts down, and Charlotte backed up.

“You have skill,” Caroline said hoarsely.

“I am the best harlot in London,” Charlotte said. “If you think my worth is not what your husband pays, you are right. I am worth more.”

“Should I pay you?”

“I’ll put it on your husband’s account.”

Caroline closed her eyes, and her face went stiff. “Will you tell him about this?”

Charlotte almost thought to let her wonder. But it was too cruel. “No. It’s your money, after all. But he doesn’t need to know.”

“I…”

Caroline didn’t finish her sentence. After a long moment she stood. “I think I will have some supper. I will be staying the night.”

“And will you require my services tonight?” Charlotte couldn’t help the grin forming on her lips. People like this. They’d fuck and then they’d feel bad about it afterwards, but they’d still want more.

Caroline moistened her lips. “I don’t know.” She brushed her skirts off, though there was nothing on them. “Haxby will let you know if I need anything.”

Haxby. Charlotte resisted a sour frown. “Certainly.” She hoped that for his lady’s sake he could keep a secret, because if Caroline summoned her tonight, he could certainly guess what was in the winds.

Caroline was halfway to the door when she turned around. “You said you’d tell me a secret.”

“Oh? Do you still want to know?”

“If there was a secret and you were not playing with me, then yes.”

“And until I tell you, you will not be…satisfied?”

“It is your business. But you did give me your word.”

Charlotte smiled. “Very well then. This is the secret: At the moment a man or woman takes their pleasure, the harlot is goddess. There is no one higher than she.” She straightened her shoulders. “Would you deny that truth? Or would you say I lowered myself to you?”

Caroline slowly shook her head. “I have never judged your kind.”

The words stung. “Your kind.” As if Caroline couldn’t be the same, easily, were she to lose her money and her husband. “That is kind of you, ma’am,” Charlotte said. “Now. Go to supper.”

Caroline scuttled out. It did not seem to occur to her that she was the one who had been dismissed. She, too, had been the one at Charlotte’s mercy, as long as she’d had Charlotte’s hands on her. Money meant nothing then. Birth meant nothing. The only thing with meaning was flesh, pressure, friction, pleasure. Pleasure the like of which she had probably never felt before.

She would not think Charlotte’s skills were cheap again. And if she questioned the gambling debts, Charlotte would know how to handle her.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first non-drabble Harlots fic. Caroline/Charlotte is a ship I was rather fond of, for the few episodes they interacted. I hope you enjoyed! Comments would be much appreciated. Or come talk to me on tumblr at convenientalias.


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